Tabitha Ch. 04

Their first date was that night. They'd agreed to meet at a chain restaurant downtown. Tabitha wasn't exactly a big fan of their cuisine, or the corny uniforms the staff wore, but everyone knew where the place was so she was sure he'd be able to find it.

She was inexcusably late.

"I'm so sorry," she said rushing up to where he sat at an outside table.

Wes stood and seemed surprised to see her. "You look amazing," he said.

"Thanks." Tabitha ran a shaky hand over the blue and green trapeze dress she wore. The satin material cascaded from a choker style collar to hang just above her knees. She'd pinned her hair back and actually put on make up. She'd even bought a pair of gold strappy sandals to complete the ensemble.

She sat when Wes pulled out her chair and started in on the apology again.

"Don't worry about it," Wes said with a shrug.

"Did you already order?" She picked up the menu and pretended to look over it.

"No, I didn't really see anything I wanted so I thought I'd just wait for you and take your lead."

"To be honest with you, I don't really eat here. I mean, the choices are a salad, a burger, or a crappy cut of steak. I might as well tell you up front that I'm not one of those girls that pick at a salad in front of a guy and then go home and shovel ice cream into my face."

His loud laugh surprised her and a few diners at neighboring tables. She couldn't help but giggle when they turned to look.

"Sorry," said Wes leaning into her. "You just caught me off guard."

Tabitha blushed. "That's okay."

"Hey, why don't we get out of here?"

"Excuse me?" she asked pulling back a bit.

"We don't want to eat here. There's no sense in choking down crap and making small talk when we could be out doing something fun." He grinned at her, his gold eyes flashing mischief.

Tabitha hesitated.

"Here comes the waitress, it's now or never."

"Let's go!" she said grabbing her purse.

She hesitated again at his car door. The charcoal gray Honda Accord didn't look like a serial-killer-mobile. She gave Wes the once-over. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a collared shirt under a black leather jacket. His hair was the same color as the coat and had the same sort of shine. Now that he wasn't at work, it wasn't as coiffed and fell into his eyes and around his face. Her hands itched to push it back, but such an intimate touch wouldn't exactly be appropriate on a first date.

"Where are we going?" Tabitha asked.

He crossed his arms and studied her a moment. "There's a private concert in the park tonight...interested?"

"What kind of concert?"

"It'll be good, trust me."

Tabitha frowned. "You don't even know what kind of music I like, what makes you think I'd like this band?"

"They're good, if you like music, you'll like them."

"What's the name?" she asked as he opened the passenger door for her.

"Sickly Sweet," he said shutting the door.

Tabitha was immediately worried. Her taste in music was pretty tangential. She listened to every genre, except Polka. Her CD collection ranged from symphonies to present day; from Jimi Hendrix to Keyshia Cole. If she didn't like this band, she'd have to tell Wes and that meant no chance at a second date. If she even wanted a second date...

The ride was short, as the park wasn't far from downtown. They stopped just outside the entrance and bought hotdogs from a concession stand that was about to close. They walked along the path slowly, not really in a hurry. They made easy conversation and Tabitha thought that it had been a long time since she'd felt this comfortable with a guy.

The band was amazing. It was an eclectic mesh of styles; Hip-Hop with a Rock n' Roll chaser. The lead singer had dark features, and a good voice, but the other singer, a woman was incredible. She sang the chorus of four out of the nine songs they performed. During one song, the band dropped the beat and she sang a-capella. She had a voice that wouldn't quit, a cross between Mariah Carey's voice—back in the nineties—and a bit of Janis Joplin's heart wrenching melodies. It all depended on the tempo of the song. The instrumentalist, all males were easily just as talented as both singers and looked like they were actually enjoying themselves.

"That was awesome!" Tabitha said when they band walked off the rickety stage and started shaking hands with people in the crowd.

Wes just smiled.

"I can't believe there aren't more people here!" She glanced around at the thirty or so people around them.

"Wes, dude!" the lead singer said grasping Wes in a man-hug, "Glad you could make it. I thought you had a date!"

"He did," Tabitha said propping a fist on her hip. "He still does."

The singer's gaze turned to her and he smiled. Tabitha's breath hitched a little. He was beautiful...there was no other way to describe him. His hair was black, but short and spiked on top. His blue eyes were so pale; they were practically transparent in the moonlight. He had a silver lip ring in the corner of his bottom lip with a large ball closure. When he smiled the vertical dashes in his cheeks made him even more attractive...it was almost painful. "Feisty," he said, "I like you already."

"You don't even know me," Tabitha said rolling her eyes.

"I can fix that," he said, making the dashes deeper by smiling bigger. "I'm Clay Hanover."

"Tabitha Riley," she said extending her hand. "You were really great up there." She jabbed a finger toward the stage, now being dismantled.

"Thanks—all in a night's work. Does that mean you're going to buy the album when it comes out next week?"

"I think I will," Tabitha said with a shrug. "I've spent money on worse."

Both men laughed.

"You're cool," Clay said letting her hand slip from his. "Wes is bringing you to the listening party this weekend isn't he?"

Tabitha glanced at Wes who shrugged. "He hasn't asked me."

"Well, it's just like this," said Clay jabbing his thumb toward the stage, "except in a smaller space and with corporate big-wigs instead of actual fans."

Tabitha wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't sound as fun."

"It's not," Wes interjected, "but the food is better."

Tabitha shrugged. "I guess that would be okay."

"Cool," Clay said brightly. "I'll see you Sunday night then." He winked.

"Okay," Tabitha giggled. It turned into a cough when she caught the look Wes was giving Clay.

"Later, Clay," Wes said shrugging off his jacket. "Tell everyone I said hi."

Clay nodded and headed toward a group of girls that were positively vibrating with excitement when they noticed his approach. Tabitha was watching him walk away when she felt the warmth of the leather jacket around her shoulders. It smelled so good.

"I'm not cold," she said turning back to Wes.

"That's not what your goose bumps say...and did you notice Clay staring at your chest?"

Under the coat, Tabitha ran a hand over her breasts. Her nipples were tight and hard, definitely visible through the dress. It was over sixty degrees outside, but evidently, the night air and the skimpy dress were working against her. She felt herself start to blush. What a first impression Clay must have of her! "Good thing I didn't give him a hug," she muttered.

Wes chuckled. "Are you ready to go?"

Tabitha slipped her arms into the sleeves of the jacket. "I think its best, before I put someone's eye out with one of these things."

She slipped her hand into his as they walked back to the car. He glanced at her, obviously surprised, but she kept her eyes forward.

He took her back to her car, still parked in the restaurant lot. He opened her door and walked her to the driver's side of her Camry.

"I had fun," she said starting to shrug off the jacket.

"Keep it," said Wes gripping the lapels and pulling them back together. "I can get it on Sunday when I pick you up for the party."

"Isn't that a bit presumptuous? I don't remember saying that I wanted to go to the listening party with you."

Wes shrugged. "Do you have other plans?"

"None that I can't change..."

"Eight o'clock then?" He was leaning forward, and she couldn't help taking a long, deep sniff of his scent. He smelled warm and manly, just like his jacket.

"That's cool."

He leaned closer and she held up a hand. "I was taught to never kiss on a first date."

She laughed at the look of confusion on his face.

"Wait," he said leaning back. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" Tabitha said pressing her upheld hand into his chest. Her breath got short at the feel of the hard planes under the fabric. "I'm very serious. No kissing on the first date." Some of the conviction had gone out of her voice.

He took a step back and smiled when she let out a long, slow breath and ran her hands over her throat.

"Okay...that's cool," he said pitching his hands through his dark hair. "Call me so I know you got home safe?"

"Umm...why don't you just follow me?"

"Follow you?" he repeated.

"Yes, follow me home. You'll know I got in safe and you'll know where I live when you pick me up on Sunday."

Wes agreed to the idea and followed her to her apartment building. They parked and he accompanied her up the elevator and to her door. She wasn't in the penthouse, but she was on one of the higher floors of Executive Apartments.

"Thanks for walking me," Tabitha said once she'd gotten her key into the lock. She didn't want to give him any indication that she'd be inviting him in.

"No problem," he said watching her fidget.

"I guess you can have your jacket back since I'm inside now."

"Keep it," he insisted. "I'll get it from you later."

"Don't think that you're going to get a second date out of me just because of this jacket," Tabitha said rolling her eyes. "I won't feel that guilty if I were to keep this jacket and never see you again...even if it is leather."

Wes laughed. "I wouldn't dream of blackmailing you into a second date."

"Good," she said pushing her door open. "Oh," she said turning back to him. "By the way; best first date ever."

"Definitely," Wes said with a wink and a wave; smooth as he pleased. Once inside, Tabitha locked the door and slid down to the floor. She decided that Clay Hanover may have been the most beautiful man she'd ever met, but Wesley Roberts was so much hotter.

***

The next morning, Wes had to work. He stopped by Chubbs, a fifties style place, for breakfast.

"Finally," Clay mumbled when Wes took the seat across from him at the booth. "It's almost eight, I was about to give up on you and go home to bed."

"I said I'd be here, and I am," Wes said with a shrug. The elderly waitress came over and Wes ordered coffee and waffles.

Clay nodded, his eyes were at half-mast and red-rimmed. "So, are you coming from that girl's house? Did you guys make a night of it?"

Wes rolled his eyes. "I'm on my way to work."

Clay groaned. "I can't believe you're still working at that store, pushing pianos."

"Everyone can't stay out all night, every night. Some of us have to work during the day."

"Who are you, dude? It's like I don't even know you."

Wes laughed and started adding sugar to his coffee. "Where'd you guys go after the concert?"

"Into the city, we hit like three clubs."

Wes watched his friend slump against the wall. "Jazzy went with you?"

"Yeah, found a babysitter she trusts." Clay barely smothered a yawn as the waitress set the food down on the table.

Wes dove into his waffles as Clay slowly started eating a pile of pancakes.

"You're not soaking up alcohol with those, are you?"

Clay shook his head. "Hell no, I'm not drunk. I'm just tired as fuck."

"Maybe you're getting too old for partying all night." Wes ducked the spoon Clay launched at his head.

"Twenty-nine isn't too old for anything!" Clay said glaring at his friend.

"I'm just saying, you look like you need your mommy to tuck you in right about now. Maybe you should come over to the dark side." Wes held up his hands as if in surrender.

"Fuck off," Clay growled. "I'll never be a day-walker."

"You're hardly keeping up that night-stalker routine."

Clay swallowed the bite he'd just taken. "If I hadn't agreed to meet you for breakfast, I'd have been in bed an hour ago. Just so you know."

"So sorry," Wes grumbled.

"Dude, don't even. I owe you more than anyone will ever know. Don't ever apologize to me. I'd meet you at high noon if you asked. You know how it goes."

Wes smiled. Clay was one of the most talented people he knew, but he was also a real friend.

"Now, tell me about the girl already before I go face first into my flapjacks."

"She came into the store last week and I asked her out." Wes tried his best to sound nonchalant.

"Fuck that," Clay grumbled. "This girl ended your drought; you haven't been on a date in..."

"Three years," Wes supplied.

"Three years? Damn, that's a lot of time to be spraying the shower walls! Anyway, this girl snapped you out of that funk and...you didn't go to hookers did you?"

Wes rolled his eyes. "No, dumbass, can you make your point before I'm late for work?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Clay blinking his eyes. "My point is; she's got to be special to get you to sit up and take notice, plus she's got a wicked mouth, and she's hotter than Satan's sauna. Tell me you hit that last night."

"I didn't hit anything, but I'm about to hit you in the face if you keep talking about her like that."

Clay laughed. "Right, I'm done. Just don't fuck this up, dude. The runner-up line starts behind me, if you do."

"Fuck off," Wes groused around his last bite of waffle. He was only half-sure that his friend was kidding.